When I came out to Teeth a couple of weeks ago, I had a certain foreboding that this would not end well. I mean, she's not the sharpest knife in the drawer and she has the emotional maturity of a crowned head in the SCA. (OOOH! Burn! Look, I'm not saying that everyone in the SCA is developmentally arrested, but I think it says something about a certain group when a psychiatric nurse attends a local event and afterwards can only say, "Wow. The full spectrum of emotional illness was represented in that room!")
After her initial reassurances that the revelation of my sexual orientation wouldn't change anything, she has recently settled in to being a Real Fucking Pig. One cannot mention cats, as this sets off the inevitable pussy jokes (and given that we just adopted a cat from the Humane Society...well, you get the idea).
The other day, Wolf Woman asked me about my tattoo. I explained it, and when asked where I got it done, I told them the name of the shop and added, "It's run by two women who do really terrific work." This completely innocuous comment resulted in sniggering of the most juvenile variety.
Then today, I booked some aesthetic services for myself and the Little Hunneydoo at a local spa. I wrote the date and time down in my daytimer.
Seeing this, Teeth said to me, "Do you really keep a daytimer?"
"Yeah," I said.
"Wow. YOu really ARE gay."
This statement didn't/doesn't even make sense to me. And by this time, I was getting plenty pissed off at being the latest brunt of her unimaginative, sophomoric jokes.
So I said, "How does that apply to me?"
There was no ready response forthcoming (because really, what can you say?), but I made a mental note and filed it away.
Well, after break, I was called into the office to have an interview with my immediate supervisor (who rocks) and a visiting bigwig from Head Office. We had a lovely, relaxed chat about more training that I'll be getting in the near future and that they're planning to keep me around for a while, etc, etc.
And then Head Office Lady asked me if I had any questions or concerns.
Well, yes, ma'am. As a matter of fact, I do.
So I spilled the beans. I mentioned that Teeth is frequently inappropriate in her language, to the point where the male staff members blush and leave the room. Teeth takes this as a feather in her cap and hasn't the wit to figure out that these men are embarrassed for her, not by her.
Then there was the time she received a large pice of coal (to give to her husband for Christmas), and spent the rest of the day (which was the day of our staff Christmas luncheon), talking endlessly about her "big black box". And our supervisor was there for that one and was physically cringing as I described the incident.
I gave very specific examples of how she belittles and intimidates the other billers and did not neglect to share with them how she was stand-offish and suspicious of me until she learned some of my personal information. And then I described minutely how she was using this information to make tasteless and offensive jokes at my expense.
Naturally, the first thing Head Office Lady (who wore an expression of mild horror) asked me was, "And have you made your feelings known to her, when she talks like this?"
So I told her what had happened in the staff room mere minutes before being called into the office.
"And no apology?"
"I don't think she realizes what she's saying really," I said. "She's really a diamond in the rough, and maybe lacks some of the situational awareness that someone with a little more life experience would have."
(I dunno--was that diplomatic? Or passive aggressive? Or both? And is it passive aggressive if it's true? I dunno. I felt that I was in a delicate position because--as I told them very frankly--being a temp means you're not exactly coming from a position of power. They rushed to reassure me that this still does not entitle me to disrespect or harrassment. So there--the word was said: Harrassment.)
Anyway, they thanked me for my honesty and openness, and I went back to my desk. It happened to be lunch time at that point, so we all went to the staff room. Teeth and I were in there alone while the smokers did their thing outside.
She said, "So did they give you the bad news?"
"Yeah," I said, playing along. "I'm outta here next week."
"No doubt because of what I said about you."
"Probably," I replied.
"Cuz I'm the office snitch," she said.
"I imagine you are," I said pleasantly, but all the while I'm thinking, What the fuck is all this?
I can't, for the life of me, figure out if she was reminding me that she is the senior biller, bitch, and don't you forget it, or if she really did say something to them. Though what that could be I can't imagine, and was no big whoop evidently even if she did, because they're keeping me on and training me in new things and I even got my own nameplate for my desk this afternoon.
So fuck off, Mrs. Ed.
Anyway, she let it go, because going any further would have been too much of a genuine confrontation for the Passive Aggression Queen. But if she has more than two brain cells to bang together in that vast dome of hers (which I strongly doubt), she should instinctively know not to take me on, verbally or otherwise. Because unlike the other billers who giggle at her jokes and take her humiliation passively, I won't. I'm infinitely smarter, more insightful and a universe more confidant than she is, and will not give her power over me.
I don't think she cares for me, really, although she pretends to. I think I intimidate her, and that makes her already insecure little world seize right up. I can't tell you how many fucking times I have heard her tell the story about how she used to beat up other girls in high school because they went after her boyfriends. But I doubt very much that that was the real reason: it's just the one she used to lay a beating on any girl who threatened or intimidated her in anyway.
But we'll see what happens. I doubt that the information I shared with Head Office Lady and the Immediate Supervisor will go without someone having a serious talk with Bugs Bunny about her mouth.
And I don't mean her teeth.